Again, sickly Liz has taken up residence on our couch. Desiring nothing but chicken bouillon, ice cream and episodes of Gossip Girl on Netflix.
And then, stubborn Liz takes over and goes out and buys pillow shams and work clothes. And then comes home exhausted because she forced herself to get better before she was actually better. Rats.
Needless to say, I can't believe I am sick again. I know I've said it before, but I thought it warranted being said again. But I'm glad that you come home to me no matter how sick I am, while, somehow still agreeing to take care of me yet again. Even more amazing is that you come home and help me finish up decorating our home so our narcissistic wall of us looks a little more complete. . . Granted, its not completely finished, but it is more close to being finished than when I got up this morning!
We're so cute. And so close to being finished with this project. So we're pretty close to having a party and inviting all of our friends over to see our masterpiece.
I love you,
Your New Wife.
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